


Apartment 3B

by Join_the_Masquerade



Category: Placebo (UK Band)
Genre: F/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 17:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Join_the_Masquerade/pseuds/Join_the_Masquerade
Summary: Two troubled strangers make a suicide pact.





	Apartment 3B

We met through a cousin of a friend of a guy I hung with one weekend a few months ago. He’d written his phone number on the base of my shoe in the living room of… well I was never really sure whose living room it was, in case I’d wanted to hook up one day. We hadn’t, and this wasn’t about that, anyway.

We’d spoken only once over the phone a few days ago. It had been a short conversation, partly because I was crying and partly because he was busy fucking someone. You couldn’t ask me how I’d known he’d say he was up for it. I wasn’t sure I really knew the answer to that, anyway.

I pulled up at the block of apartments he’d given me the address for and pondered for a moment if he actually lived there or if he’d rented the place just for the occasion. It didn’t really matter and I didn’t really care. I didn’t care about much these days. He was already waiting for me on the steps outside the building, a cigarette hanging from his lips which left a red stain on the tip as he pulled it from between his lips after once last drag, flicking the butt away without a word. I followed him through the front doors and up the stairs a few levels, down to apartment 3B.

I stood silent as he pulled the door closed behind us. He hurried around the corner and I heard the sudden sound of rushing water fill the air. Steam followed him out the room as he re-emerged a moment later, the light from the bathroom the only light on in the apartment.

“What’s your name?” he asked, clearing his throat to rid himself of a voice that gave away the tears he’d recently cried.

“Annie. Yours?”

“Brian. Not that it matters, hey?” No, I guess it didn’t. Up until that point I’d known him as Steven’s high friend and he’d known me as the girl that had been wearing no underwear on the dance floor the other week. Self-destructive. Reckless. The sound of the running water was making me nervous as our small conversation halted for a moment and I could see that he was listening, too. He turned around and I followed him into the cramped space as he closed the door, his fingertips lingering on the door handle for long enough to make me unsure.

He started undressing. My eyes followed the curve of his spine upwards as he lifted off his sweater, bringing his shirt with it, and dumped it by the shower. He turned his head to speak to me.

“I’d always wanted to do it naked,” he said, his voice tiny and unsure of himself. “I thought it’d be nicer this way.” I nodded. I guessed it didn’t really matter. I began to take off my own shirt, aware of his eyes on my chest as I unclasped my bra and threw it on top of the ever-growing pile of clothes by the shower.

“Ladies first,” he said, motioning towards the bathtub as it brimmed with steaming water. A little escaped over the sides as I slipped in, bringing my knees up to my chin to make room for another. Slowly, Brian entered after me, softly cursing at the temperature of the water and closing his eyes for a moment as he rested his head against the wall. I moved back a little as he reached forward to turn off the water behind me, his hand falling to my shoulder, his thumb running along the smooth of my neck. I closed my eyes as he kept his hand there, and I could feel him trembling. But maybe that was me.

“Are you sure about this?” we both asked in perfect unison, smiling gently as we looked away, looked at anything but each other’s faces.

“I mean, we could just have sex instead…” Brian suggested. I left his words hanging there for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what I actually wanted. I saw the gleam in the metal from the dim lights above us as he picked up a razor blade from where it had been sitting, ignored, on the edge of the bath, and placed it purposefully between his thumb and index finger. Suddenly, I could see all the scars on his legs, some faded, some not. Suddenly, I wanted to know why he’d hurt himself. Suddenly, his name seemed to matter a whole lot more to me.

“Why did you hurt yourself?” he asked, gently placing the blade back where it had been sitting and moving his hands to my legs, pulling them down so my thighs were closer to him. He leaned over, examining them, adverting his eyes to other places as his tongue darted out to lick at the top corner of his lip.

“It hardly seems to matter, to be honest, as I sit here with you right now. Funny, that,” I mused, frowning as I came to the realisation that today was never going to be the day. His hands moved, his thumbs massaging the insides of my thighs and causing my eyes to close, my head to lean back gently against the faucet.

“What about you?” I asked, my voice but a breath as his fingers moved to press against private places.

“I’m in much the same place as you,” he replied, pressing harder and deeper until I let out the tiny moan I’d been holding in the back of my throat. He stopped to crawl over me and kiss at my neck where his hand had lingered previously, my own hands finding the curve of his spine before tangling in his messy, black hair.

Most of the water in the tub was soaking through our clothes on the floor of the bathroom once we were done. We sat wrapped up naked in the same blanket in front of Brian’s radiator, soft touches and gentle whispers the only things we could manage as thoughts flooded our minds. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth sticking around a little longer. Some people were worth sticking around a little longer for.


End file.
